Whispers of Destiny: His Belated Love novel Chapter 196

Before Rosemary could utter a word, the other party was already flipping out, "Are you blind or what? Do you have any idea how hard it was to snag this dress? If you mess it up, selling you wouldn't even cover the damage!"

That voice sounded super familiar; pretty sure it was Queena.

I looked up, and yep, it was her.

Rocking a black, sultry mermaid dress, but her figure didn't do it justice—it didn’t fill out right.

To borrow the latest internet craze—it was a total "facepalm" moment.

She gave Rosemary a look of pure disdain, arms crossed, even though she was shorter, she still put on this lofty, looking-down-the-nose attitude: "Oh, if it isn't Mr. Templeton's ex. How did a nobody like you with no status or fancy family background crash this shindig? Don't tell me you snagged some sugar daddy?"

Rosemary was just there to show face with Adonis's invite, not in the mood to trade barbs with a no-brainer like Queena. She shut her up with one line: "Maxwell doesn't dig ladies who nag, and he sure as hell doesn't like it when women make a scene in public like fishwives."

Queena did a quick scan to make sure no one was watching, then took a breath to save face, whispering: "You're full of it. If you knew what Mr. Templeton's type was, why'd he kick you to the curb?"

Rosemary couldn't be bothered to argue, simply sidestepped her and headed to the drinks area.

Queena glared at her back. Rosemary was all looks and no legacy, no dough. Sure, she was a stunner, but she wasn’t some irreplaceable Helen of Troy. What did Mr. Templeton see in her to marry her?

She wasn't born yesterday. A guy like Maxwell, if he didn't want to marry a woman, no amount of arm-twisting would work.

Maybe it was her job?

Artifact restorer.

Sounds pretty posh.

Queena grabbed a glass of plain water, "Rosemary..."

Rosemary was busy picking a drink, sensed someone behind her, and spun around, on the defensive.

Queena was right there, and the sudden turn knocked into her hand.

The glass tilted, spilling water all over Rosemary's hand.

"Yikes—"

The water was hot, but not scalding since it had been sitting out for a while, yet it was still a nasty burning sensation on the skin.

"Ah..."

That scream wasn't Rosemary’s—it was Queena’s.

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